


A Hot Date

by Rockinmuffin



Series: When You Play With Fire [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gender-neutral Reader, Humor, M/M, POV Second Person, Post Pacifist Ending, Reader-Insert, awkward first date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 11:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5089796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rockinmuffin/pseuds/Rockinmuffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're not sure whether you should thank Papyrus or strangle him.</p><p>Grillby x You</p><p>Sequel to Getting Grilled</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hot Date

**Author's Note:**

> [ This story is a direct sequel to Getting Grilled, so please click this link and read that short first before reading this one! Thank you!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5000473)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> This is for all my fellow sinners who want to date fire. Sorry for how long this took to get out! Hopefully it doesn't feel too rushed. :)
> 
>  **EDIT:** After weeks of agonizing over my own stupidity, I actually went back through this and changed the Grillbz’s into Grillby’s because I’m done deluding myself. Grillbz is obviously a nickname. Thanks for dealing with me, folks! ;)

You don’t even have time to react to the sound of your front door opening violently with a slam against the wall of your entryway.

“I, The Great Papyrus, have some concerns and reservations about your new boyfriend!”

You look up from your TV to see a very determined-looking Papyrus standing in the center of your living room. You’re thankful he had the good sense to come in through the front door instead of the window. Giving him a key to your house is probably the best investment you’ve ever made.

Then you realize what he actually said and your face instantly heats up.

“Grillby is _not_ my boyfriend.” You rub your arm self-consciously. “I haven’t even talked to him since he gave me his number, so…”

Papyrus, as he’s wont to do when he’s going off on a tangent, ignores you. “Anyone who dates someone cool enough to be a friend of mine must prove to be worthy! You deserve only the best! Of course, since we’re in the friend zone, you’ll have to settle for the second best.”

You stare at Papyrus for a long moment, your expression carefully neutral as you mentally prepare yourself for what you know is going to be an exhausting conversation. You reach in your pocket to see if you have any aspirin on you.

“I think you’re setting your standards too low. Grillby is an okay monster, but is he boyfriend material? Because last time I checked, fabric is not made from fire.”

“What?” You blink. “ _What_?”

“Plus his restaurant doesn’t even serve spaghetti!” Papyrus throws his arms in the air, eyeballs bugging out of his sockets. “What kind of sorry excuse for a boyfriend wouldn’t fix you spaghetti? Not a very good one, if you ask me.”

“Seriously, Papyrus, you’re making a big deal out of nothing. I don’t even know if I _like_ Grillby like that and…”

You trail off as Papyrus casually picks up your cell phone from the coffee table. You stare blankly as he scrolls through your contact list.

“Papyrus, what do you think you’re doing?”

He doesn’t answer you; just swipes his skeletal phalange across the screen before bringing the phone up to his skull. By the time you realize what he’s up to it’s already too late.

“Grillby!” he screeches into the phone, “If you have any romantic inclination towards my very cool human friend and want to kiss them on the mouth, you must meet us at the park exactly one hour from now. I will determine whether or not you are a suitable suitor!”

“Papyrus!” you shout as you jump up from your seat on the couch. You attempt to grab your phone but his arms are much longer than yours and he uses that to his advantage by splaying his bony hand over your face and extending the full length of his arm to keep you at a distance.

“And I don’t care if you’re in the middle of something, either, no matter how important it might be. Even if you’re baking a lasagna! If you want to date my friend they better be your number one priority at all times!”

You sweep your leg out under Papyrus, catching him by surprise and causing him to crash to the floor. You quickly bend down and scoop the phone out of his hand before he has time to recover.

“Hey, Grillby, I’m so sorry about that! Just ignore Papyrus. You don’t have to hang out with us or anything. I mean, unless you want to or something…?”

“I would,” he answers like he’s simply stating a fact. It’s said in the same tone one might say, _snow is cold_ , or, _water is wet_.

“Oh!” You run your hand through your hair, smoothing it out and tucking a strand behind your ear before you remember Grillby can’t even see you. “Well, I guess I’ll see you then, huh?”

He makes a sound in the affirmative before the line disconnects. You stare down at your phone for a moment, blinking slowly as the reality of the situation sinks in.

You’re going on a date with Grillby.

Well, it’s not _really_ a date since Papyrus will be there. Sans, too, if Papyrus manages to drag his lazybones away from… _whatever_ it is that Sans does when he’s by himself. But it’ll still be the first time you’ll see Grillby outside of a work setting. And you’ll be meeting him in less than an hour. _And_ you have nothing to wear!

You glare down at Papyrus. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“Yes! Sometimes I’m so great, I surprise even myself!” He picks himself up off your floor, brushing dust off his cape before turning back to you. “But we must make haste. In just an hour’s time, the fate of your relationship shall be decided and there’s still much to be done. NYEH HEH HEH!”

He’s still laughing to himself as he darts out your front door and down the street.

“You better not have anything weird planned!” you call after him but he’s already out of sight.

You sigh deeply as you shut your front door. You close your eyes and lean your back against it, taking a moment to collect yourself. All too soon the moment passes and you push yourself away from the door in order to prepare yourself for what is sure to be an eventful night, one way or another.

The time before your pseudo-date is spent searching your closet for something appropriate to wear. You soon find, however, all your nice clothes are either dirty or in desperate need of good ironing. You end up wearing what you already have on and hope Grillby doesn’t notice the old mustard stain on the collar.

The park isn’t all that far from your house so you opt to walk over driving. The trip there is pretty uneventful aside from you getting stopped by a dog monster in a large suit of armor to give him ear scratches. You arrive shortly after and park yourself on the nearest bench.

It’s a little odd Papyrus isn’t here yet. Sans, you expect to be late, but Papyrus is the type of guy to arrive fifteen minutes early and lecture you for boondoggling when you arrive five minutes before the appointed time.

You relax against the back of the bench, deciding to take advantage of what is sure to be a short-lived moment of peace and quiet.

The wind howls and your body is racked with a violent shiver. You wish you’d had the foresight to bring a jacket. It wasn’t too bad at first but the longer you’re outside the more goose bumps pop up over the exposed flesh of your arms. There isn’t any snow on the ground but with the sun down it’s cold enough out that you can see your breath seeping past your lips.

You’ve only been sitting a minute or so when you see Grillby approaching from the distance, the flame of his head a shining beacon in the dark.

He’s wearing a brown pea coat, black dress slacks, laced boots, and what appear to be pleather gloves. You look him up and down a moment, eyes wide and bottom lip worried between your teeth. Maybe it’s because you spend the majority of your time around a couple guys who spend most their time dressed in loungewear and Halloween costumes, but you can’t help but be impressed by how sharply he dresses.

 _Oh no_ , you think, _He’s hot_.

Sometime while you’re staring like a creep, Grillby must notice because he’s heading straight for you.

You stand up to greet him. “Uh, hey there, Grillby,” you say with a wave and instantly feel stupid for waving when he’s standing right in front of you.

“Hey,” he responds.

And that’s about as far as that conversation goes. Grillby is a monster of few words and you know so little of Grillby outside of his work that you find yourself struggling for any topic of conversation that doesn’t involve ordering a plate of fries.

A particularly cold gust of wind brushes past you and you shiver. Grillby stares.

“Forgot to bring a jacket,” you explain shyly.

He immediately begins to unbutton his pea coat, casually pulling the jacket off and then laying it over your shoulders. Grillby is taller than you with broader shoulders and you find yourself dwarfed by fabric.

“Won’t you be cold?” you ask even as you clasp it closer to your body, greedily leeching in the warmth it provides.

He shakes his head and makes like he’s going to reach for you then stops himself, staring at you purposefully. You nod your head, giving him permission, though you’re not quite sure what you’re agreeing to until his arm is wrapped around your shoulder and holding you against his body.

“ _Oh_.”

He’s warm. Like, _really_ warm. Not as warm as one might expect from a being made from fire but certainly warm enough to keep the chill at bay. Between the jacket, his proximity, and all the blood rushing to your face, you’re beginning to sweat.

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

You jump at the shrill sound of Papyrus’ voice cutting through the silence like a dull knife through a block of Styrofoam.

You turn from Grillby to see Papyrus posing, his cape flowing in the wind behind him. Sans is standing next to him, casually spooning bites of relish out of a jar and into his mouth. When the smaller skeleton sees you looking he offers a casual salute and a smile stained with hotdog toppings.

“No, but seriously,” Papyrus frowns, “What are you guys doing? I can’t tell.”

“Looks like ol’ Grillby is sharing his warmth with our human friend.” Sans nudges his brother’s side with his elbow. “You could even say things between those two is getting a little _heated_.”

“Ah, I see! Using the cold weather as an excuse to stand close together? A clever ploy!” Papyrus turns his attention back to you and Grillby, the ridge of his brow raised and hands on his hips. “You must think you’re pretty good at dating, huh? I bet you think you’re a really cool guy!”

“Actually,” Sans cuts in, “He probably thinks he’s hot stuff.”

“Well, cool or hot, I’ll have you know I’m a true expert when it comes to romantic relationships. I’ve spent countless nights studying the fine art of dating; reading instruction manuals, watching various documentaries, and playing multiple virtual simulations on the computer. And I have come to but one conclusion…”

He pauses for a beat.

“It’s all a bunch of malarkey! There’s only one true way to win a person’s love. And that is by solving a series of puzzles!”

Grillby, to his credit, doesn’t seem all that bothered by the load of nonsense being directed at him. He just watches the scene unfurl in front of him, taking it all in silent stride. You, on the other hand, slap your palm across the center of your face and shake your head as you not-so-silently question your choice in friends.

“Grillby. Prove to me you’re worthy of dating my friend.” Papyrus’ empty socket begins to glow with a magical energy. “Show me your determination!”

Papyrus presses a button and the earth begins to shake as, before your eyes, the ground parts to give way to what you can only describe as an obstacle course of complete and utter _bullshit_. There are pressure plates, what looks to be a maze, and even an elaborately set-up dining table with a three course meal displayed.

“Oh my God.” You cover your face and groan in embarrassment. “Grillby, you don’t have to do this.”

He says nothing; just gently pats your shoulder. You peek up at him from in-between your fingers. It’s hard to read his emotions but you think he might be smiling. He then turns back to Papyrus and nods his head.

“Excellent! You passed the first test, which is The Test Of Not Being A Big Scared Wusssy Baby! But you’ll need more than courage to beat _my_ masterfully-concocted puzzles. You’ll need tenacity and a super smart brain like mine!”

The first real puzzle involves stepping on a series of pressure plates. You may not be tenacious and your brain is probably average at best but you’ve seen this one before. You take a step forward, ready to lend a helping hand—or foot, in this case—but nearly get walloped across the head by a bone for your trouble.

You stare at the ground where the bone landed for a moment before turning to the skeleton who threw it. “Papyrus,” you start, eyes wide, “What the actual _hell_?”

“Sorry, friend! I know you’re eager to consummate your relationship with your new beau but he has to solve the puzzles all on his own.”

“But—”

Your argument is cut short by a congratulatory bell sounding as all the pressure plates turn green and the path to the next puzzle is opened. Looks like Grillby doesn’t need your help after all.

“Not bad! But that was just a warm-up for the trials yet to come.”

The next puzzle is a maze. No deadly traps or anything; just a simple maze. It’s only a matter of time before Grillby get’s through it, especially with him singeing the sides of the walls to mark where he’s been.

You huff, arms crossed as you wait.

“Ol’ Grillby’s really burning through these puzzles.”

You jolt, not expecting the voice coming from your immediate left. You look down at Sans, your eyes narrowed. You’re not sure how he’s managed to sidle up next to you without your noticing.

He must mistake your irritation for worry, because he lightly pats your arm. “Hey, there’s no point in getting yourself worked up over this mess. Maybe you’ll get yourself a new hot boyfriend or maybe you’ll end up desperately single with just a couple of us numbskulls for company. Whichever the outcome, the results are the same.”

“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow. “And how do you figure that?”

“Because,” he shrugs his shoulders, “Either way, you’re boned.”

“…I hate you so much right now.”

His grin widens as he winks.

Grillby makes his way out of the maze just before you’re about to smack Sans across his smug-looking mouth.

“Ah! Another of my genius puzzles successfully solved! Congratulations! But has it been skill that’s gotten you this far or a bout of pure luck?” Papyrus flashes a devious-looking grin. “This next puzzle shall decide!”

The next puzzle isn’t a puzzle at all. It’s just a table with a salad bowl full of grass and dandelions, a plate of spaghetti, and a pie tin that’s also full of spaghetti. Grillby stares only a brief moment before walking right past it.

With no further obstacles in the way, Grillby sets his sights on you and calmly starts walking in your direction. You meet him halfway.

You think maybe, _just maybe_ , that all this nonsense is finally over and done with. But then a chorus of high-pitched _NYEH_ s sounds and you know it’s far from over.

“You resisted my spaghetti! Truly, your determination to kiss my friend on the mouth is even stronger than, I, The Great Papyrus, anticipated.” Your groan is loud enough that it can be heard across the entire park though, for the most part, it goes ignored. “But it’s not over yet, Grillby. Sans! It’s time to bring out the big guns!”

Sans slowly shuffles over to Grillby, taking his sweet time. The skeleton pulls out a pen and a piece of paper from the pocket of his sweatshirt and holds them out to Grillby. “Here ya’ go, pal.”

Grillby takes the pen and paper. You lean over to get a good look at it. It’s a Junior Jumble puzzle. You slap your hand across your face.

Calmly, Grillby kneels down, placing the paper over his knees as he steadily fills out the answers. He stands up, gives the paper a quick once-over, before handing it back to Sans.

Sans doesn’t even look at it before looking back over his shoulder and calling out to his brother. “He got ‘em all right.”

“WHAT?!?! Impossible! Even _I_ could not solve that puzzle on my first try.” Papyrus rushes over and swipes the puzzle out of Sans’ hands. Eyes pop out of his skull as he scans over the jumble.

The longer he looks the more his expression twists in frustration. He stomps his feet and crumples the paper up and tosses it over his head. The wad of paper lands on the ground next to the trash can and Papyrus pauses his tantrum long enough to retrieve the paper and properly dispose of it.

“You must be cheating.” Papyrus’ eye sockets narrow, Grillby set in his sights. “And I refuse to let my friend date a cheater!”

The air becomes tense with the crackling energy of monster magic. Papyrus’ socket glows as the flame of Grillby’s body changes from a sunset orange to blue. Grillby’s shoulders tense in shock at the move for a split second but he recovers quickly, his stance changing to a defensive position.

Papyrus raises a bone above his head in preparation of an attack. Grillby, meanwhile, removes his gloves and the fire that form his fists erupt with frantic energy and double in size.

While it’s mildly tempting to watch two men duke it out over you, you’re done with passively sitting in the background. This is your story, damn it, and you refuse to be pushed back to the role of side character! You feel your chest swell with determination as you firmly place yourself in the space between the two.

“THAT’S ENOUGH!”

Papyrus lowers his weapon, the glow disappearing from his eye socket as Grillby returns back to his normal coloring. The flames of Grillby’s hands dwindle back to their normal size.

Seeing that the situation has been defused, you allow your body to relax as you focus your attention on Papyrus. “While I appreciate your concern and I know your intentions are good, ultimately, the person who decides whether someone is good enough for me is _me_. And if you really consider us to be friends then you’ll trust my judgment and respect my decision.”

Papyrus turns his head to the side, avoiding your gaze.

“Papyrus, why are you doing this? I mean, the puzzles, I understand. But antagonizing Grillby? Starting a fight with him?” Your brow furrows. “That’s not like you at all.”

When Papyrus speaks, it’s in a quiet, timid voice that sounds all wrong coming from your usually energetic and confident friend. “It’s just… If you start dating Grillby, you won’t have time to hang out with me any more…”

Your expression softens. “Papyrus, you’re one of my best friends. I’ll _always_ have time for you, whether I’m dating or not.”

When Papyrus turns to face you he’s staring back at you with the most pathetic look you can imagine, sockets brimming with tears and a little trail of what you can only assume is mucus seeping out from his nasal cavity. “You promise?”

“I’ll do you one better: I _pinky_ promise.” You hold your hand out to him, pinky finger extended. “And no one can break a pinky promise. It’s against the law.”

Papyrus looks back to Sans for confirmation.

“It’s true, bro. A minimum sentence of fifty years in timeout. No dessert.”

Papyrus’ face brightens at that. He immediately removes one of his gloves, exposing the thin bones that make up his hand. He extends the phalange of his little finger and you immediately wrap your pinky around it. You smile at Papyrus and he smiles right back.

The smile is still on Papyrus’ face as he pulls his pinky back to turn his attention to Grillby. “I’m sorry for the way I behaved this evening. It wasn’t very cool of me to pick on someone weaker than I am! Next time we hang out, I’ll make it up to you. With spaghetti! But for now, we must part ways. My favorite show starts in five minutes!”

You close your eyes and shake your head but you still can’t help but smile fondly at Papyrus’ retreating form.

When you open your eyes, Sans is standing right in front of you. To your credit, you don’t jump in place; just merely widen your eyes in surprise.

“Hey,” he says, “Fight aside, I think Papyrus had a pretty good time tonight. It’s been a while since he’s had a chance to break out his puzzles. So thanks for humering us.”

You narrow your eyes. “Was that a bone pun, or…?”

“Well, I better get home,” Sans begins, avoiding the question, though the big stupid grin on his face is answer enough. “It’s almost past Papyrus’ bedtime and I still gotta’ read him his bedtime story.”

Sans walks off in a direction that is the complete opposite of the way back to his house. You don’t question it.

You turn back to Grillby. “It _is_ getting late. We should probably head home too.”

“I’ll walk you.”

The way Grillby says that leaves no room for argument; mostly because you don’t want to argue about it. The park might not be far from your house but it’s still dark out and you don’t mind the company. You nod your head as you start walking and Grillby takes his place at your side.

He’s so close that sometimes his arm brushes against your shoulder.

“Hey,” you start, voice breaking through the quiet of the evening. “Sorry about all the craziness tonight. I wish I could say that wasn’t typical of them but that would be a lie. Truth is, ever since I’ve met those two, every day has felt like I’m in some kind of high-energy Mettaton-produced family sitcom.” You turn your head to the side, stuffing your hands deep in the pockets of your jacket. “So, anyone who spends time with me will be subject to that insane lifestyle.”

He remains quiet but, at this point, you can’t say you’re too surprised. You’re both silent for the remainder of the walk.

“Well, this is my place.”

You pull your house key from your pocket as you step up to the front door. You unlock it and then turn back to Grillby for a final goodbye only to find he’s standing mere inches away.

He leans down, his face close to yours. He pauses for a moment, seeking silent permission before leaning down further until you feel him against your skin. He has no mouth but the flames that make up his face flicker against your lips and leave behind a feeling of warmth as great as any kiss you’ve ever experienced. When he pulls back, gauging your reaction, somehow your cheeks feel even hotter.

You’re not quite sure what he’s looking for but, whatever it is, he must find it because you think you can see the ghost of a smile where his mouth might be.

“See you around.”

It doesn’t sound like a question but he still looks at you like he’s waiting for an answer. Your lips part but no words form so you nod your head slowly.

Satisfied, he nods back then turns around. You watch until he turns a corner and is out of your line of sight.

You bury your flushed face in your collar when you realize you’re still wearing his coat.


End file.
